Cat's Eye
by Red43Collaborative
Summary: Hermione's cat suddenly comes up dead, and Narcissa Malfoy dies soon afterwards. When Lucius Malfoy learns his wife had pet Hermione's cat before they had both died, his suspicions rise, and he goes out of his way to ensure the future safety of a fellow Ministry worker. However, when he charms Narcissa's cat and give it to Hermione, the results are quite unexpected.
1. Chapter 1

**I was thinking about Mizsphinx this morning, and how she'd said she might have to leave behind her cat if she decides to move, and this story popped in my head, so I thought I'd start her an early birthday gift…lol. Hope you like this, Miz ;)**

Chapter One: Strange Occurrence

The curious tabby cat padded silently through the alley behind Hermione Granger's flat, chasing after the mouse she had just spotted. As she readied herself to pounce, suddenly she saw a flash of light, and all of her muscles froze, preventing her from capturing her prize.

If she could have mewled in desperation, Minerva would most definitely have done so, for she knew her witch had keen enough hearing where she was concerned for her distress to be noticed. But even her throat seemed to deny her, leaving her as helpless as a kitten.

"I've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time," crooned a happy voice—a human voice. Not one that she was unfamiliar with, though the tone seemed somehow off. Like it had gotten higher and much more forceful than usual.

Another flash of light, and the cat fell over and passed out. She did not know how long she laid there before she came to with a start of surprise and got to her feet.

Such an odd dream, she thought, and such an odd place to suddenly take a nap. But, since she obviously had nothing to chase here, she may as well go inside.

Her witch appeared to have a few guests with her—that red-haired man who had stopped kissing Hermione and started kissing another, and the red-haired woman who seemed to care very much what happened to her friend. She cared so much, she had even given Hermione many hugs when the man had gone.

The other two smelled similar. Both wore light colored fur on their heads, and the woman's was longer than the man's. If she went by smell alone, Minerva would think the woman was the mother of the younger man.

She seemed like a very pleasant human, and when she spotted Minerva she made a mewl of delight. Happily, Minerva moved to rub against her leg. The woman reached down to gently rub behind her ears.

"Hermione, isn't this the cat you named after Headmistress McGonagall?" she inquired curiously. "I had heard she looked similar, but I must say the resemblance is remarkable."

"Yes, she is," Hermione agreed. "Draco, would you and Ginny like to have some cookies?"

"Oi, I'm sitting right here, Hermione," the red-haired man replied indignantly.

"If you want any cookies, Ronald Weasley, I suggest you get off your lazy arse and get them yourself," Hermione replied irritably. "Or you could let you wife Lavender get them for you."

"What, you want me to bring Lav here to get me some cookies?" he scoffed.

"You know very well I don't want her here at all," Hermione reminded him, biting the inside of her cheek to hold her temper in check.

Seeing her face turn red, Ron decided that he would get a cookie himself and cease talking to her.

"Now, Hermione, about the wedding," said the blonde woman. "I want my son to be bonded in style, and since you are Ginny's best friend, I'm sure your help in the matter will come in handy."

"Of course, Narcissa," she agreed. "Just let me know what you want me to do. Anything for a friend."

"I'm certainly glad that you now count Draco among your friends," she said with a smile. "I was so worried about how things would turn out after that dreadful war. I never expected you to become the Head of the Magical Beasts control Division, and I certainly did not expect Lucius to gain a position within your Department, either. Isn't it funny how much one's life can change from just a single moment in time?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed.

Minerva began to purr as she jumped up into Narcissa's lap.

"Such an affectionate thing," Narcissa cooed. "You know, I was just telling Lucius the other day how much I wanted a cat. Of course, he hates the things with a passion—but that would just make it all the more diverting. I do so love to take the opposite side wherever he is concerned."

"Are you two not getting along?" Hermione asked.

"The man hasn't touched me in years," she told her. "I swear his affections must be finding an outlet elsewhere—though I won't complain, since my interests have wandered as well."

"You can't be serious," Hermione gasped. "That man has to be an excellent lover—just look at him. How could you want anyone else with him around?"

"Lucius has never been to my tastes, Hermione," she admitted softly. "I prefer my lovers to be of a much softer variety."

"Mother, please," Draco said with some disgust. "We do not want to hear anything about you and that little friend of yours. I'm sure the others don't wish to know what you do outside of your marriage bed."

"Tea's ready," Hermione said brightly.

"Hermione, dear, I'm beginning to feel rather ill," said Narcissa. "I do believe I'd not keep the tea down. Perhaps it would be best if I went home."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, giving the woman a tentative hug. "I hope you'll feel better soon. Perhaps you should drink a potion when you get there."

"Yes, I think I shall," she agreed. "The rest of you have a pleasant evening."

Stepping into the fireplace, Narcissa called out her destination as she tossed some floo powder, and disappeared from view.

"I hope she'll be all right," Hermione said to Draco and Ginny, making sure her back was to Ron.

"So do I," Draco agreed.

"Say, Hermione, there's something wrong with your cat," Ron said.

Hermione reluctantly looked behind her. Minerva lay on the floor, completely limp, her eyes staring off into the distance.

"Oh, no!" she cried, coming to the cat's side. She shook her several times, trying to awaken her, but in the end she knew it was useless. "She's dead," she told the others. "Why would she suddenly be dead? She's only three years old, her health was perfect, and she was perfectly happy not two minutes ago. I wonder what could have happened."

"She's just a stupid old cat, Hermione," Ron pointed out. "Just bury her and get another."

"Ronald, you have no idea how glad I am that you and I did not get married," Hermione told him in biting tones. "She was not _just _a cat, she has been my truest friend through all the time it took me to get over what you had done. And the only reason you're even here is because of Ginny. Just remember that, and keep your opinions to yourself."

"Fine, I know when I'm not wanted," Ron huffed as he, too, headed for the fireplace. "I'm leaving."

"Perhaps you should call Harry," Ginny suggested. "Harry's got an Auror wand—it can see if any sort of magic was involved in Minerva's sudden death."

"That's a good idea," Hermione agreed. "I'll do it straight away."

"I hope you don't mind that I'd rather take my fiancée and depart before Potter arrives," said Draco. "Last time I saw him, he punched me in the nose."

"Well, he's just sore that you stole his girl last year," Hermione excused him.

"It's his own fault, too," Ginny said. "If he wasn't constantly acting so great and powerful all the time, he might have had more time for me. But anyway, I'm much happier right where I am."

Draco blushed as Ginny swat him on his backside.

"Yes, so am I," Draco agreed. "But I must be off, as I'll need to check on my mother anyway, so good night. And Hermione, thanks for helping with the wedding. I wasn't sure you'd do it, but Ginny knew. She's almost as bright as you."

Ginny had already grabbed some floo powder and Draco stepped into the fireplace beside her and took her hand in his. In unison, and smiling as they said it, they both called out, "Draco and Ginny's flat."

Hermione smiled as she watched them go, then turned somberly back to the issue of her dead cat. She threw a bit of dust into the fireplace and said, "I must speak to Harry Potter straightaway."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Narcissa

"Narcissa? You're back already?" asked Lucius with a surprised drawl as she stepped out of their fireplace. He did not stand or approach her in any way until she staggered as she headed for the couch. "What's the matter? Are you ill?" he asked as he helped her to the seat.

"I don't know, Lucius," she admitted. "I felt fine, and then suddenly I became as weak as a kitten. I fear something is dreadfully wrong."

"Don't worry, my dear," he said brightly. "I'm certain that whatever it is, is should pass within a day or two. Perhaps you should pop off to bed? I'll see if I can find you a little something to make you comfortable."

"Yes, thank you, Lucius, that's a wonderful idea," Narcissa managed to get out.

When Lucius went to look for her, Narcissa was not in her bed. He checked the bathroom, but she was not there either. At a loss, he went out into the hall and looked both ways.

"Accio Narcissa!"

He found her in a broom closet, completely unconscious.

"What the devil?" he gasped as he pulled her out and carried her to her room. He lay her gently onto her bed and tried to shake her awake, but to no avail. "Narcissa? Narcissa?"

He took the Restoration potion out of his pocket and dumped it down her throat, rubbing it to get her to swallow, but she never did. Panicked now, he ran to the fireplace and tossed in some floo powder.

"Draco? Draco? I need you!"

"What is it, Father?" came Draco's voice. "Did Mother arrive safely?"

"Get over here. Now!"

A few seconds later, Draco stepped out of the fireplace. His eyes immediately went to the bed, where his Mother lay unmoving.

"What happened?" he gasped as he ran forward.

"She didn't feel well, so I went to get her something that might help, but all I could find was a Restoration potion," Lucius explained. "I figured it couldn't hurt—that if a spell had made her ill, the stuff could reverse the effects. But I found her passed out in the broom closet. She couldn't even remember how to Apparate to her own bed."

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Father," said Draco as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Nothing?" Lucius demanded. "I spent all that money on your medical training, and you can't even save your own mother?"

"Father, it was too late by the time I got here," Draco defended himself. "If you had told me sooner, I might have—but no, this is not your fault, it's mine. I knew when she left that she didn't feel well. If I hadn't gotten distracted by the death of Hermione's cat, I might have gotten here sooner."

"Did you say Hermione's cat?" Lucius wanted to know. "Was Narcissa anywhere near that thing?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact," Draco answered, momentarily distracted from the grief that was threatening to take hold of him. "She was petting Minerva right before she said she wanted to go home."

"Right, then," said Lucius, his face scrunched up with intense concentration. "We go to Granger's now, find out what that cat was into. Let's just hope our favorite Muggleborn hasn't been handling that furry beast as well."

"I'm way ahead of you," Draco told him. "But, just so you know, it's very likely that Harry Potter has gotten there before us."

"Good, that will save us the trouble of calling in an Auror," he replied. His mind was far too preoccupied with Hermione's safety when he should be grieving for his dead wife, but he just couldn't seem to stop the flow of worried thoughts that assailed him.

He and Draco stepped into the fireplace and were soon stepping out of hers, and as soon as he was free of it Lucius' eyes were roving everywhere, looking for the woman they had come to see.

"Potter? Where is Miss Granger?" Lucius demanded.

"She's lying down in her bed," he explained. "She's been crying ever since I got here. I guess it's starting to get to her."

"Has she been holding that cat?" Lucius asked anxiously.

"Only a very little," Harry said. "I took it away from her to examine it."

"Try not to touch it much, Harry," Draco told him. "It may very well be a murder weapon—and a deadly one, at that."

"Murder?" Harry gasped in alarm. "Who's been murdered?"

"My Mum," said Draco, and Harry realized he was crying.

"I'll need to examine her, too, then," he told them. Draco nodded in agreement as he watched Harry running his wand over the cat, looking for spells that may have been cast on it. Lucius was nowhere in sight, for he'd gone immediately to check on Hermione.

In her bedroom, Hermione was curled up on her bed in a fetal position, and hot tears streamed down her face. Lucius burst in, took one look at her, and became immediately relieved.

"Lucius? What are you doing here?" Hermione gasped. "You could at least have knocked. I might have been indecent."

"My dear Miss Granger, I was simply making sure you were not dead," he said as he schooled his features into a milder form of his concern lest she see too much of his heart. "Are you quite well?"

"It's my cat that's died, Lucius, not me," she answered gruffly.

"It's your cat, and the last person who pet her, that's died, Granger," he told her as he began to pace about the room.

"But—" Hermione began, and then her eyes widened as she took in the full implication of what he was telling her. "But—why aren't you at home?"

"I felt a need to ensure your safety before allowing myself the luxury of grief," he explained.

"And now?" she inquired.

"Now, I'd like you to accompany Draco to St. Mungo's for a thorough examination," he said briskly. "I would not wish to leave you alone, only to have to come looking for your dead body come Monday morning when you did not report to the meeting of the Department Heads."

"Lucius Malfoy, that's a very insensitive thing to say," Hermione began to scold him.

"It may well be, my dear, but it is only the truth," he insisted. "While I am aware that emotions are running high at this moment, I would be remiss in my duty to one of my employees if I did not take every precaution to make certain she remained unscathed in this matter."

"I will go with Draco, if you insist," said Hermione. "But you ought to go tend to your wife."

"Of course I will, Hermione," he answered. "I know that you believe me to be an unfeeling monster, but if Kingsley was willing to put the past behind us and place me as Director of our division, why can you not attempt to do so as well? It's been five years since that nasty business was resolved, you know."

"But—but—but you're Lucius Malfoy," she reminded him as she sprang to her feet and moved a bit closer to him, pointing a finger at his chest but not quite touching it. "You were Voldemort's right hand man. How does one overlook that? You allowed me to be tortured in your own home—"

"And I have apologized for it more than once," he interrupted her. "Must I live in the past the rest of my life? Can you not believe that I've seen the error of my ways? A man can change, given the proper motivation. When I realized how wrong I had been, I went out of my way to learn what the real truths were. I assure you, I am not the man I used to be."

"Hermione?" called Harry, and the two of them raised their brows at each other

"Yes, Harry," she called, bolting for the door.

"I don't think you're going to like this," he said as both she and Lucius entered the kitchen, where he had the animal up on the table.

"What is it, Harry?" she wanted to know.

"Well, someone used a Stupefy on the cat, but that's not the most important finding."

"Get to the point, Potter," Lucius demanded irritably.

"There appears to be some sort of residue on your cat's fur," Harry pointed out. "Draco and I were able to work together to discover the nature of that substance. It's some sort of poison that's been rubbed into the fur. I don't think it originally was rubbed, but was sprinkled onto the cat. Unfortunately, when Narcissa pet her, this poison got into both the cat's skin, and hers as well. It was only a matter of time after that. The cat, of course, would naturally die sooner since she's much smaller, but—"

"-but Narcissa didn't have much more time than it did," Lucius finished for him. Then his eyes fell to Hermione as he said, "You do realize, Miss Granger, who that poison must have been meant for?"

Hermione was staring at Minerva with a mixture of sadness and terror on her face. "M-me? Why would anyone wish to poison me?"

"Hermione, think about it," Lucius said. "There are many people still out there who believe in blood purity. They would hardly wish for a Muggleborn to become a person of importance within the Ministry. It could have been one of a thousand people—maybe more."

"I—I don't understand this," she answered as a tear slid down her cheek. "The war is over. Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Lucius felt an overwhelming urge to wrap the frightened young woman into his arms and allow her to rest her head against his chest as she cried it out. He was just about to move forward when Harry Potter beat him to it. Feeling slightly resentful for this, he turned to his son.

"Draco, take the cat and Miss Granger over to St. Mungo's," he said. "Your Mother and I will join you there shortly. And son—try to keep the number of people who know about this to a minimum. We have no idea what—or who—we are dealing with."

"Yes, Father," Draco agreed, and did as he was told.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: St. Mungo's

"Shouldn't you be somewhere on the other side of the hospital with your wife?" Hermione grumbled when she saw Lucius stalk into the room with a poker face hiding any emotions he might be feeling at the moment.

"Not to be indelicate, but she and I have even less to say to each other now that she can't speak," he grumbled.

"Lucius!" she gasped.

"Don't look so surprised, Miss Granger," he said as he took a seat in the chair next to her and leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. "Surely my wife or my son have told you by now that we were not exactly on good terms."

"Yes, I suppose Narcissa did mention it," Hermione conceded. "Still, she's only just died. You ought to show a little consideration, don't you think?"

"Is this concern of yours based in some sort of Muggle belief?" he inquired, still not opening his eyes.

"No, it's just based on common decency," Hermione scolded.

"Ah, just as I thought," he smirked. "Definitely a Muggle idea."

"Oh, you are infuriating, Lucius Malfoy," she informed him. She was about to say more when the nurse showed up and called her name.

"Be sure and check every inch of her for toxins," Lucius told the woman, all business now. "Whatever that stuff was, if any of it is on her at all, I want to know about it."

"Really, Lucius, I hardly think—"

"We wouldn't want you bringing it into the Ministry, would we?" he insisted. "Now be quiet, Miss Granger, or I shall go in there to supervise the entire process."

Blinking in surprise, Hermione thought she saw the smallest hint of a smile at the edges of his lips as he said this. She'd bet anything that the man wished she would continue to speak, just so he could come in and enjoy the view. She kept her mouth clamped shut with a firm resolve.

"Mm, pity," he said softly as she turned away, and Hermione's shoulders tightened as she went, making him chuckle. A warm, sensual chuckle that set her entire body on edge, in more ways than one.

Was it shameful of her to be thinking about how sexy Lucius Malfoy was while his wife lay dead in this very same building? Yes, of course it was. She should be flogged, boiled in oil, and laid out to dry in the desert sun. Though, a persistent voice in her head added, it might be worth it as long as she survived and got to come back to work the next day—especially if it was Monday, when all the Division Heads met with Lucius to discuss the week's agenda.

"Miss Granger?" said the doctor as she came into the room. "I understand you are concerned that you may have been exposed to the toxin that killed your cat and the poor woman who pet her? I believe they've determined the type of poison used. If you'd touched the stuff, you would not be here now."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes, my dear," she assured her. "It was a combination of several different poisons—nightshade extract, baneberry, and others, all neatly made into a powder that was sprinkled on the cat's fur. If the cat had not been pet, she could have easily spread the stuff all through your flat, making the place into a veritable death trap. You're lucky it turned out as it did."

"Forgive me, doctor, but a woman has died tonight," Hermione pointed out. "Why does no one seem to show more concern for her?"

"The concern is there, of course, Miss Granger," she said. "It's just that nothing can be done for Mrs. Malfoy, and you are still alive. We must direct our concerns where they are most needed. Besides, Lucius Malfoy has insisted upon a full investigation. I'm afraid we're going to have to scan you for unusual substances in spite of the belief that we won't find them. It's standard procedure."

"Very well, then," said Hermione with a heavy sigh.

About half an hour later, a very red-faced Hermione exited back into the waiting area. Only Lucius remained there waiting for her.

"Where are Draco and Harry?" she wanted to know.

"I sent them home," he told her. "I saw little need for all of us to wait. I shall see you home myself, and make certain the place is safe before I leave you there alone."

"That's hardly necessary, Lucius," she told him.

"It is completely necessary, Miss Granger," he insisted as he held out an arm for her to take.

St. Mungo's preferred the patrons not to Apparate within the building itself, so Lucius walked with Hermione towards the exit, and felt a swell of pride to have her on his arm, if only for a moment. Perhaps she would not notice if he walked slower than necessary. He could only wish.

As the stepped outside, Lucius turned Hermione around so he grasped both of her arms at the elbow, and she glanced up at him in surprise before everything pieced away with a loud pop. When they pieced together again they were standing in her living room.

Hermione felt a hot blush creep into her cheeks as Lucius continued to hold both her arms and gaze down at her for a few seconds before letting go. She looked down at her feet as she took a couple steps backwards. "I'm sure I could have Apparated myself, Lucius, " she chided, and was surprised at the shaky quality of her voice.

"Yes," he answered in a silken tone. "So am I."

"Yes," she whispered again, and then practically tore herself away and forced herself to move to the couch and sit down upon it. She couldn't imagine why she should feel so nervous about being alone with Lucius tonight. It wasn't as though they'd never been alone together in the past, though that has always been while they were at work.

"I—I suppose I'd best get to checking, then," Lucius commented, and then gave the entire place a thorough inspection, ending with Hermione's bedroom. He came out with a slight flush to his cheeks and said, "It all looks fine, Hermione. Would you like me to tuck you in?"

He'd been going for a bit of lighthearted banter, Hermione could tell, but there was nothing lighthearted about the tension mounting between them.

"I'm sure I'm perfectly capable of tucking myself in," Hermione told him circumspectly.

"Yes, as am I," he answered dryly, his smile transforming his features into softer lines. "But you know, some things are just better when they are shared."

"Go home, Lucius," she told him.

"As you wish," he said, his disappointment clear. A soft pop, and he was gone.

Hermione sighed deeply. Another night alone, she thought dismally. Perhaps she ought to have let Lucius stay, but if she did it could only have led to despair. Whether he wanted to admit to it or not, the man would need to grieve the loss of his wife, even if just because she'd been a part of his life for so long. He was rather foolish if he thought otherwise.

"Well, perhaps Ron is right about one thing," she grumbled. "I should probably get another cat, just to stave off the boredom."

Then she yawned as she realized just how sleepy she felt. Kicking off her shoes, she padded into the bedroom, and laughed as she saw that Lucius and meticulously set everything neatly in order in her bedroom. All the pictures on the walls were no longer crooked, her clothes were neatly folded instead of strewn about, and her bed was made.

Even the pillows somehow seemed softer, she realized as she got under her covers and laid her head on one of them. With a satisfied smile, she curled up and snuggled down, and soon she was fast asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Monday

Hermione arrived a bit earlier than the five other Division Heads who would also be at the meeting with Lucius Malfoy. Glancing at him from her spot at the boardroom table, she could see the tired lines playing about his eyes, as if he hadn't slept a wink. He caught her watching him, and the hint of a smile touched his lips, making her heartbeat speed up a bit.

"Are you missing you cat yet, Miss Granger?" he inquired politely.

"I am," she said. "And are you missing your wife?"

"Not one jot," he answered stubbornly. "The woman was forever on me to stop leaving my slippers lying about. I'll have you know that over the last thirty hours I've donned at least seven different pairs, and left each and every one of them wherever I pleased."

"Well, if I was your wife I'd gather them all up and heap them right in the middle of your favorite chair," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.

Lucius' eyes dilated at this, and in a soft, silky voice he inquired, "Would you?"

Blushing furiously, Hermione said, "Well, um, yes, I do believe I would, but of course I didn't mean to say that I'd ever—of course it would never happen, would it? What could you possibly want with a Muggleborn, right?"

"Hermione—" Lucius began, but then three other Division Heads popped in, leaving whatever he'd been about to say unspoken.

"Good morning, Director Malfoy," said Charles Landry, the only male among them. "I heard about your wife. What a sorry state of affairs. Are there any leads as to who might have done it?"

"Not at this time, Prewett," Lucius answered. "Anyway, I managed to create a tentative document concerning the next week, though I'm certain everyone here will understand that I was a bit—preoccupied. It's not nearly as thorough as usual."

"You know, Mr. Malfoy, Hilda and I weren't even sure you'd be here today," said Amanda Collier in a sympathetic tone. "It would only be understandable for you to take off a day or two."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said primly. "And leave the work completely undone? Surely you jest."

"Miss Granger, didn't I hear something about your cat being dead as well?" Charles inquired.

Lucius shot Hermione a look of warning from behind the man, whose entire scrutiny was on her.

"N-no, of course not," she said nervously. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, never mind then," he said with a bit of a puzzled look. "Let us take our seats, and allow our illustrious leader to begin."

"Where are the Bentley twins?" asked Hermione brightly, and as she spoke the pair of them arrived together. "Aw, there they are now."

"Excellent," said Lucius as he strode to the comfortable chair at the head of the table and sat on it with a flourish. "First order of business, Miss Granger, I'll be expecting you to provide a full report on magical cats and their habitual haunts. I would have you include the haunts of all known witches or wizards who use the cat as their animagus, but knowing you, you've thought of that already."

Hermione blushed when the others chuckled at this. "Bentleys one and two, it's back to Paris for the both of you. You'll be looking for a rare chemical that has recently come to my attention. I'll provide you more details after the meeting. The rest of you, carry on as you have been before."

"That's it, then?" asked Charles in surprise.

"Yes, well, I've got a bit of a headache this morning," Lucius said. "Off with you, then. Hermione, wait a moment while I speak to the twins, I've something to say to you."

Flushing slightly, Hermione nodded and stayed in her chair, fiddling with a pen that was set on the table that she happened to know was one of his favorites. This did not go unnoticed by the owner as he pulled the two young men aside, saying something to them she could not hear.

"Yes, sir," they said in unison. "You can count on us."

When they'd popped away, Lucius took two deliberate strides to the table and gently removed the pen from Hermione's grasp. Where their fingers touched, a white-hot fire sparked between them.

"What did you want, sir?" Hermione inquired, trying to ignore it.

"Hermione, I am very afraid that whoever did this is not likely to stop with just one attempt," he told her. "I hope you will listen to me on this—be careful. Do not take any undue risks, and do not deviate from your regular routine. I will want to check on you throughout the day. Is that understood?"

"Yes," she answered, looking down at her hand that he'd touched, surprised by the remaining sensation even though the touch had been so brief.

Lucius took the hand in his and squeezed. "Promise?"

"I promise," she agreed.

#

True to his word, Lucius had checked in on Hermione Granger periodically throughout the day, never staying more than five minutes at a time for fear he'd never wish to leave her at all. He'd been thinking hard on a way to be able to keep the girl safe from any further attempts on her life. There had to be some way to thwart the plans of whoever had done this.

He decided to pop home a couple of hours early. He supposed the stress of the last couple of days was starting to catch up with him—though he'd be the first to admit his sudden desire for a nap had much more to do with the dreams he'd been having over the past six months, ever since he'd taken over his Department within the Ministry. More and more often, those dreams had involved the most brilliant witch of her time.

Sighing as his head sunk into the pillow, the last thing he expected was an intrusion from one of the house elves. He sat up in annoyance, ready to scold the creature for its temerity.

"Must I remind you that I am not to be disturbed while I'm trying to sleep, Lilac?"

"So very sorry, sir," she said with a bow. "But sir, this arrived in the post today. Lilac was not sure what you wanted me to do with it, sir?"

"What are you talking—" he began, then saw what the elf was holding. "That's a cat! Why is there a cat in my bedroom? You know I don't like cats."

"The delivery was addressed to Madame Narcissa, sir," said Lilac uncomfortably. "But, as Master knows, she is unable to receive it properly. I just wanted to know what to do with it, sir."

"Why the deuce does that thing have no fur?" he wanted to know.

"It's a special cat, sir, imported from Egypt," Lilac explained. "The man who brought it here left before I could find out anything more. I guess the thing had scratched and bit him all the way here."

Lucius stopped in mid-ire and got a speculative look on his face. Lilac began to think he'd become a statue when suddenly he said, "That's it! This is perfect—I know just how to solve both of today's problems all at once!

"Sir? Should Lilac get your special tonic?" asked the nervous little elf.

"No, no, I'm perfectly all right," Lucius answered with a huge grin. "Now, first things first—a protective charm. And then, my little feline, you and I are off to meet your new Mistress. You should like her. She's excessively fond of furry-and not so furry—beasts."

"Mew," the cat replied, and purred as she rubbed against his leg.

"Here now, none of that," he grumbled, and got to work on his charms straightaway.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: An Unusual Turn of Events

Lucius popped over to Hermione's flat as soon as he'd finished laying as many protective charms on the cat as he could reasonably think of. The little beast continued in its attempts to get into his good graces, and several times he'd been forced to extract its claws from his expensive clothes.

"You're a menace, you little ball of furless claws," he told the cat ungraciously before he rapped smartly on Hermione's door. "I'll be well rid of you soon."

Hermione came to the door herself and opened it rather than using magic. He'd expected her to, as it was her usual habit to do so. As fortune would have it, the cat had chosen that very moment to jump onto his back and insinuate itself inside the back of his robe, so that he was awkwardly trying to extract it as the door opened.

"Lucius?" she asked in surprise. "Whatever are you doing?"

"I've come here with a present for you," he explained. "Only, it seems to have—ugh! To have gone down the back of—er—could you help me out, here?"

Hermione tried hard not to laugh, but her mirthful chuckle escaped her lips as she pulled him inside and turned him about to see what all the fuss was. "What kind of a present could you possibly have gotten for me? And what for? It's not my birthday or any other holiday for which a gift would be required."

"It's a bloody cat," he grumbled as her hands slipped inside the robe, and he realized in an instant that perhaps he ought not to have asked her to help him. Now the image of her hands touching him in a manner so similar to disrobing him was likely to be branded in his brain for who knew how long.

"A cat?" she gasped as she managed to locate the creature. "Where on earth did you get a cat?"

"Never mind that," he said. "Just get the bloody thing off of me."

Hermione laughed as she pulled the cat free of his robe and then wrapped her arms around it, holding it close and soothing. "It's okay, now, kitty. The big bad grouchy man will stop yelling now."

Lucius pulled a face at this statement. "Now see here, Hermione, I've brought you this cat to protect you while I am unable to do so," he informed her. "But there's one more charm I'd like to put on her, to make even more certain that she will be effective at her job."

Now Hermione pulled a face instead. "Are you certain it's necessary to go to such lengths, Lucius? Surely whoever tried to kill me won't try to use another cat if they try at all."

"Hermione, you may be cavalier with your life, but I do not feel the same," he informed her. "I have grown used to having you as the Division Head of Magical Beasts, and it would be a complete nuisance to have to find someone else to fill that role. Besides, I doubt they could do it half as well—"

"Was that a compliment, Lucius?" she grinned as she curled up on the couch with her new cat and rubbed noses with it. "And why is this cat naked?"

"It's Egyptian," he answered distractedly. "Now hold her still while I cast one last spell."

"Oh, all right," Hermione agreed, turning the cat to face him. "Smile pretty for the big, bad wizard, kitty."

Lucius didn't bother to react this time, for he was already beginning to conjure the protective spell he wished to employ. The tip of his wand glowed a deep purple shade, and then he set the spell free. It circled about a bit, then encased both Hermione and her new pet. Then, at the last moment, it suddenly veered about a bit, and wrapped around Lucius as well.

"What the devil?" he gasped in surprise.

"Did you feel that, Lucius?" Hermione inquired as she hugged herself. Her whole body was tingling, and the little cat had leapt out of her lap and was now rolling around on the floor as if it was drunk on catnip.

"I did," he answered, and she saw that his face was turning red.

"What was that?"

"I—I'm not certain," he said. "It appears the spell was much more powerful than was my intention. I was trying to simply set the feline as a beacon, to let me know whenever you were in any danger, but—"

"But?"

"It would appear that somehow I've done something a bit more direct, and a lot more personal," he admitted. "Perhaps it was because in my heart it was what I really wanted, but—"

"But?"

"Miss Granger, would you please stop saying that?" he said in a sterner tone.

"But—" she began. He cast her an irritated look. "Sorry. I just want to know what the spell has actually done."

"Hermione," he said, moving to sit beside her on her couch. "I fear I've bound us together somehow. I'm not quite sure how much a bond it might be, but I can assure you it is—irreversible. I had not intended for my emotions to play a role in tonight's events, but there it is."

"Lucius, are you trying to tell me you were having thoughts of you and I—bonding—while you were casting that spell?" she clarified, her face now even redder than his.

His hand came down to rest on her knee as he said, "Not just then, my dear," he whispered against her ear. He felt her heartbeat quicken at his touch.

"I—I'm not sure what to say to that," she answered, and her voice sounded strange to her ears. Her whole body was on fire, especially where his hand still rested on her knee.

"The heat in your blood can only be cured in one way, my dear," he mentioned then.

"You—what do you mean, heat?" she inquired nonchalantly. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Don't lie, Hermione," he admonished her. "Do you not know that I am feeling it, too?"

"I don't know what you mean," she insisted. "Where's my cat? I need to give her a name—"

"How about Pussy?" Lucius suggested as he stopped her from standing up. Hermione chuckled, and then Lucius realized what he must have sounded like, and added, "I meant the cat, Hermione."

"Yes, I'm sure you did," she said innocently. Their thighs were touching and his hand curved around her inner thigh. Hermione thought she would melt right into the seat. "But if I call her that, how will I know whether you're talking to me or the cat?"

"Since when have I referred to you as Pussy?" he wanted to know.

"I overheard you and Charlie, you know."

"You did?" he asked, blushing furiously now.

"I believe your exact words were, 'damn, I'd love to have that pussy',"

"You were most assuredly not supposed to hear that," he told her.

"Lucius?" she gasped as his hand crept even higher. He leaned closer, and his lips grazed the side of her neck, making her gasp again. "Lucius, you should probably go."

"Yes, you're probably right," he answered as he crushed her torso to his. His lips planted tiny kisses along her throat, and then he nuzzled his nose into her hair. "But, you know, bad boys never do become truly good, Hermione."

Hermione stood up and went to retrieve the cat, using it as a sort of a shield as she turned to face Lucius again. "Well, good girls tend to stay good," she told him then. "I'll see you at work."

"Good night, Granger," he said before he Apparated away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: A Voice in the Night

Lucius couldn't get comfortable as he lay in his nice, soft bed. His whole body was aching , most particularly in the groin area, and he got up to pace around more than once. On several occasions, he came very close to grabbing some floo dust and heading right back over to Hermione's to take care of the problem. But since he doubted he'd get the reception he hoped for if he tried it, he firmly resolved to stay in his bed if it killed him—and he was starting to wonder if it would.

When he finally drifted off, all he could do was dream of Hermione. What would she look like lying beneath him in his bed? What would she taste like? Would she really be a good girl like she'd said, or could he get her to be as naughty as he?

He must have finally fallen into a deep sleep, he realized, when he started to come out of it. Something had disturbed him, but he wasn't sure what it could be.

"Lucius?" said a soft voice in the dark. "Lucius Malfoy?"

"Who's there?" he gasped as he rolled onto his back. He searched the entire room for the source of the decidedly feminine voice, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Why can't I see you?"

"Because I'm in your head, you daft man," said the female.

"Well, who are you, and how the devil did you get in there?"

"I'm not really in there, it's just our brains talking to each other," she said impatiently. "Do you always ask a lot of questions when a disembodied voice suddenly enters your head?"

"How should I know?" he grumbled. "It's never happened before."

"You know what, I am a being descended from the most noble race imaginable, the two thousandth generation exactly, and I am feeling most put out by your choice of names," she grumbled.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, that's not difficult to figure out," she said. "After you left earlier, Hermione picked me up and pet me, and then she decided to name me Pussy. This is all your fault."

"You're that love-crazed cat that wouldn't quit crawling on me?" he said with a laugh. "Really, my dear, I may be feeling decidedly aroused, but that certainly doesn't mean I want an invisible cat in my bed. What is so bloody important that you're disturbing my slumber? Hermione isn't in danger, is she?"

"Oh, no, I just thought I'd establish a line of communications," Pussy replied. "By the way, do you know where I am this very moment? I'm cuddled up next to the woman you wish to mate. You should thank me for boosting your spell. I know that you want her, and I would do anything for you, Lucius."

"Why would you do something like that for me?" he inquired, not sure if he should thank her or throttle her, considering the shape his wayward body was in at the moment.

"Don't you want to know what Hermione did after you were gone?" the cat teased.

"What?" Lucius asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"You had her so worked up, she had to finish the job," said Pussy with a chuckle. "She did quite a thorough job of it. More than three times at last count, and she's about to start in again, it seems."

"So you woke me up to tell me that Hermione was so hot after me she's been touching herself for the last six hours?" Lucius clarified.

"Would you like to watch?" asked Pussy temptingly.

"Watch? How would I watch?"

"I can show you whatever I see," she explained. "I believe it is a part of the spell we made."

"I—I don't think I should do that," Lucius hedged, but then Pussy was showing her Hermione. She must have jumped onto the dresser to get a better view of the bed, because he could see all of it.

Hermione was wearing a skimpy pink negligee, and nothing on her sweet bottom. Her fingers were delving into areas he longed to taste, and his mouth began to water at the thought. Her voice was high and throaty as she moaned with her release.

"Please stop," Lucius pleaded as he tried to stop watching her. His body was hurting more than ever now that he knew how much Hermione wanted it. Damn, he should just floo over there. But he knew he wouldn't. He wanted to be invited first.

"Does it not please you to see this?" Pussy wanted to know.

"You're meant to be showing me her attacker, not her attacking," he quipped. "Damn, would I love to attack that." He was watching Hermione lay on her bed, a dreamy look in her eyes and full, pouty lips that looked ripe for the kissing. He wished he could step right into that vision and give her what she craved.

"Pussy, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep," said Lucius. "I've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Of course, Lucius," she agreed. "But if you wish to talk again, all you have to do is think of me, and I will be there—in spirit if not in flesh."

"Thank you, Pussy," he said. "And good night."

Once he was fairly certain he was alone, Lucius lay in his bed replaying the sight of Hermione on her bed over and over. His cock was so stiff he thought it would explode, so he, too, resorted to attacking.

"Hermione, my sweet, sweet Hermione," he whispered. "At last—yes—at long last, you are mine."

When he was done, Lucius sighed. Just a fantasy yet again. But at least now he knew that Hermione wanted him. At least now he had some hope.

#

"Hermione?" Pussy called, waking the sated young woman from her casual slumber.

"Pussy? Is that you?" she gasped.

"Yes, it is I," she answered, beginning to purr as she hopped onto her bed. "May I show you what Lucius is doing right this moment?"

"How?" she asked as she sat halfway up and leaned on an elbow.

"It is a gift possessed by my species," she said with a smirk. "Here, let me show you. I think you will like what you see very much."

As Hermione gazed upon Lucius touching himself, she found her hand straying again. She came right when she heard him calling her name. "At last," she whispered. "At long last, you are mine."

Pussy sat on top of the dresser and twitched her naked tail. She couldn't help but purr, for she was certain that soon these two humans would make their way in life together. But first, she had to make sure that Hermione survived. This task was given to her, and she was more than ready to take it on.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Tuesday

Lucius' eyes were barely open the next morning as he flooed into work. He stepped toward his office and spotted Hermione at the water cooler talking with some of their co-workers. The pink sweater she had on hugged her pert breasts in just the right places, and he was immediately much more awake than he wanted to be.

Damned burning blood—if they didn't come together soon he was going to go insane. Keeping his face as expressionless as possible, he said, "Miss Granger, will you step into my office, please?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed, her expression equally wooden.

Inside the door, Hermione stopped when she did not immediately see where Lucius went. She felt rather than saw him as his arm snaked around her waist, drawing her against him. His lips traced the shell of her ear before he inquired, "How did you sleep last night, my dear?"

"Oh, I—I had the most unusual dream," she said "I dreamt that silly cat you gave me could talk."

"Did she—did she say anything in particular?" he asked. Hermione felt his body tense, and began to suspect he might already be well aware of their new feline friend's communicative abilities.

Chuckling, she said, "Only that I should make you suffer for sort of bonding us without even asking first. I thought even in the Wizarding World it was customary to have at least a first date before inextricably combining your magic with the woman to whom you're attracted—"

"Hermione, stop it," he said sternly. "You do not want to make me giggle like a girl in the middle of the office I'm meant to be efficiently running. It might give the others the wrong impression."

"Maybe I should do just that," she grinned wickedly. "You're much too uptight, anyway."

"And you think denying our blood will somehow reduce that tension?" he wanted to know as his hand traced down the curve of her hip.

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"No doubt," he smirked. "I'm going to kiss you now, Miss Granger, and I dare you to deny what you feel then."

Hermione's whole body lit up at the sound of those words, and she knew if he did that, she would throw herself right down on top of his desk and serve herself up as his lunch if he asked her to. Their eyes locked and held, breaths coming fast, their lips mere centimeters apart, when Kingsley stepped in.

"Lucius? Hermione? What is going on?"

"Oh, Miss Granger thought she had something in her eye," he explained. "I was trying to see if I could get it out for her."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said. "I believe you must have succeeded. I'll see you gentlemen later."

"Very good, Granger," said Lucius. "And if Pussy talks again, perhaps you should listen."

Kingsley's brow shot up at this.

Laughing at this, Hermione's eyes widened, but when she saw Lucius' poker face she laughed even more. "I will tell my new cat you send your regards, sir," she replied demurely, and then left as quickly as she could.

"Hermione got a new cat?" Kingsley asked. "Was that wise?"

"I am hoping so, sir," Lucius replied. "I thought perhaps it might help us flush out a would-be killer."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "A most unusual idea. But what possessed her to call it Pussy?"

"I don't know," said Lucius, more straight-faced than ever. "It certainly had nothing to do with the beast's fur, since it doesn't have any at all."

Kingsley's eyes underwent several changes as he digested this news. Before he burst into laughter himself, he blushed and said, "Well, I forgot why I came in here completely. I'll have to come back later, I think."

"Yes, Minister," Lucius answered, the picture of innocence as the man turned on his heel and popped away from view. Then he stepped over to pour himself a small glass of water from his pitcher, and he stood there sipping it, trying not to chuckle. "This cat may be more interesting than I thought," he commented before sitting at his desk and getting to work on some of the paperwork waiting there.

"Um, Mr. Malfoy?" said Hermione softly as she poked her nose in his door. "Are you not going to have lunch?"

"Oh, Her—Miss Granger, I had no idea so much time had passed," he admitted as he looked up from his desk. His blood literally boiled as he caught sight of her slim body as she leaned on the doorframe. "Why do you ask, my dear?"

"Thought maybe you'd like to eat with me," she said. "I made more food than I needed, and I didn't see you come in with any earlier, so—well, I made chicken salad. Do you like chicken salad."

"Yes, I find it most agreeable," he answered with a smirk. "Would you like to eat in here, or out among the masses?"

"Is it a good idea to eat in here?" she asked uncertainly.

"Define good," said Lucius with a smirk.

"So it's probably a bad idea," she commented, trying not to laugh.

Lucius stood up and strode methodically up to her. When their noses were touching and their bodies may as well have been, too, he said, "Define bad."

"Th-this is bad," she said.

"Is it?" he inquired with a wry grin. "I rather thought it was very good."

"That's why it's so very bad," she pointed out. "Kingsley—"

"—is at a meeting in the lower levels," Lucius finished. "He isn't likely to bother our—repast."

"It's just lunch, Lucius," she chastised him. "No blood firing talk—just a simple meal between fellow employees."

"Whatever you say, Granger," he practically purred. "But we both know you came back because you couldn't stand being so close, and yet so very far away."

"Think what you like," Hermione said as casually as she could. "I'll go get the food."

Lucius chuckled warmly as he watched her go, and he was still smiling to himself when his personal secretary stepped in. "Did you need anything for lunch, boss? I'm off."

"No, Allison," he answered. "I'll be dining in today. But thank you."

"Sure thing," she said, though she frowned slightly when she didn't see any food to be eaten there, and then she shrugged and popped out of view.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Bad

Hermione stepped into the exact space Allison had occupied only a moment before, and Lucius had to blink to shake off the sudden difference in views. The taller, more mature woman and the short, sleek and sexy younger one were in sharp contrast with each other, not only in appearance, but also because of the drastic different way each one affected him physically and emotionally as well. While Allison was close to his own age and had always been a good friend, there could be no denying that a simple friendship was most definitely not what he envisioned with Hermione.

"You're back?" he teased her. "And here I was certain you were going to make me come looking for you, since it would be so very bad of you to come back in here."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't hurt to be a little bad," she said as she set her basket full of food on his desk.

"How bad is 'a little'?" he asked with a hopeful smirk.

"Come on, let's eat," she said with a playful chuckle.

"Mm, I'd love to," he answered suggestively. He drew her closer, and his lips just grazed her ear as he added, "but I think that would be too much badness to handle." Trailing his lips from her ear and down her throat, Lucius bent even lower, coming dangerously close to tugging open the top button of her blouse with his teeth.

Hermione giggled.

Grinning broadly, Lucius backed up and sat her on the edge of his desk before moving to stand between her legs. His hands slid into the loose-hanging strands of her hair. "Why'd you wear this down today?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sure it was just to entice you," she teased him.

"Well, I think you're succeeding."

"Am I?" she asked sweetly. "Hmm, maybe I'd better put it up then."

Drawing her to him using her hair, Lucius claimed her lips with his own, and Hermione gasped at the simple contact. He hadn't been kidding about that fire in the blood. At the moment, she couldn't figure out why she hadn't gone up in flames as she savored the sweet taste.

"I hope you two aren't planning to eat that lunch," said a disembodied feline worriedly.

"What do you mean, Pussy?" Lucius asked, annoyed by the distraction as he let Hermione go.

"Hermione left that food alone earlier, and my danger senses are reeling at the moment," the cat explained. "You set me to keep her safe, remember? Naturally I would be alerted to any danger where she is concerned."

"Wait, you can hear Pussy?" Hermione clarified.

"Hush, Hermione," he answered urgently. "Pussy, who has tampered with Hermione's lunch?"

"I don't really know," she admitted. "I can only tell you that the chicken has been poisoned. And unless I miss my guess, it's going to be a brand the two of you are quite familiar with."

"But how could whoever it was have done anything to my lunch in the middle of the office where everyone could have seen them?" Hermione pointed out.

"That's true, Hermione, to the point when they all cleared out for lunch, and you came looking for me," Lucius pointed out.

"So what, you mean from now on I have to carry my lunch wherever I go?"

Lucius sighed, and drew her near again. "Hermione, you silly girl, from now on we shall simply have to dine elsewhere. I shall take you somewhere different each day, and whoever is trying to poison you won't be able to do this again."

"But what would we tell everyone was the reason for that?" she inquired.

"It's no secret someone killed my wife and your cat," he reminded her. "I shall simply say it is a precautionary measure. I need say no more than that, I'm sure."

"And where are you taking me for lunch today?" she asked. "I'm still hungry, you know."

Kissing her again, he said, "So am I." Then he Apparated them to a fine restaurant that Hermione had only ever seen from the outside, and a waiter led them to a table beside a huge window that overlooked a swimming pool.

"Is this a Muggle restaurant?" asked Hermione in surprise.

"They aren't likely to find us here, " he pointed out.

"And here I thought you hated all things Muggle," she said with a smirk.

"Not all," he answered softly as he reached across the table to take her hand and give it a squeeze.

"What about swimming in that pool?" she asked. "Bet you wouldn't do that."

"I happen to have a pool of my own," he informed her. "It's located behind the house—nowhere near the dungeons."

Hermione nodded. She didn't like how much the memory of being tortured in his dungeons still bothered her whenever she allowed herself to think about it. Unconsciously, she began to rub the scar on her arm which read "Mudblood."

Lucius noticed what she was doing, and took her other hand as well. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She nodded. "Lunch was lovely, but we ought to get back," she said as she got to her feet. Lucius stood also, and the two of them walked hand in hand toward the door. When they were certain of Apparating unobserved, Lucius brought them back to his office. Kingsley was waiting there.

"Thank you for lunch, Mr. Malfoy," she said. "I appreciate it. Hello, Kingsley. Well, off to work I go. Thanks again for discovering that my lunch was poisoned. Way to keep me safe. I'll see you later."

With that, Hermione moved quickly out the door. She shook her head vigorously to clear it. She knew she had been babbling, and Kingsley must have realized it as well. She wished she could listen in and see what he and Lucius were talking about in her absence, but she did her best not to worry.

A picture formed in her head as she sat at her desk. It was of Kingsley and Lucius, and she understood that it must be courtesy of Pussy.

"What was all that about, Malfoy?" Kingsley demanded to know.

"Hermione noticed earlier that I had not brought lunch and offered to share, but since the food had been left unattended, I checked and discovered it was poisoned," he said. "Since that meant she no longer had anything to eat, I took her out for a meal instead. I think it will be safer for her if I continue to do so."

"You're being awfully helpful to someone you never would have talked to in the past," Kingsley said. "In fact, there was a time when that poison may even have come from you."

"I assure you, Minister, I am not the culprit," Lucius said as his eyes darkened with ire.

"Just remember, I haven't ruled you out," Kingsley told him. "I'll be watching you."

"Watch me all you wish, Kingsley," Lucius said. "You'll find no fault with me."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Are You Sleeping?

It was practically midnight. Lucius couldn't sleep. He had popped over with Hermione after work to make certain her flat was in order, and tried to kiss and cajole her into letting her stay, but she'd shooed him out after a couple of hours.

He couldn't quit thinking about the manner in which he'd taken his leave, sweeping her into his arms for a romantic embrace, replete with plenty of kisses, when all of the sudden Pussy had begun to rub against his legs, distracting him.

"What do you want, you miscreant cat?"

"I'm hungry, of course," she said as she began to purr. "Did you humans intend to ignore me all night?"

"Go find a mouse or something," he had grumbled.

"No, Lucius, she's right," Hermione giggled. "If we keep on like this, she won't see another morsel in her bowl all week."

"And where's the problem with that?" he asked, one brow arched in amusement and the beginnings of the desire to put the theory into action.

"Go home, Lucius," Hermione told him, pointing at the floo sternly.

"Just one more for the road?" he asked hopefully as he pulled her close again.

"That was more than one," she said between heady kisses, and then she backed him up until he was standing in the fireplace, looking as forlorn as he possibly could. She'd resolutely taken a handful of powder and tossed it in, sending him home.

That had been three hours ago now. He'd been alternating between pacing the floor and staring at his bedroom fireplace ever since. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed just a pinch of dust and tossed it in. "Hermione, are you sleeping?"

"No," she answered from her bed when she heard his voice.

"Do you want to come and cuddle?" he asked her.

"Go to sleep, you horny old man," she chuckled.

"Not so old I would fall asleep without saying goodnight to a beautiful woman," he said, and then he tossed in more powder and stepped out of the fireplace in her room.

"Lucius!" she protested, though not very vigorously, as he climbed into the bed with her, actually patting Pussy on her head as he did so. She made room for him without much protest, and soon she was purring contentedly.

With a triumphant grin, Lucius wrapped his arms around Hermione and snuggled down with her in the pillows, his free hand coming up to stroke her hair.

"I meant you should go to sleep in your own bed," Hermione whispered contentedly after some minutes.

"But you're not in it," he mentioned.

"Well, there is that," she agreed. "But we've got work tomorrow."

"We've got work all the time," Lucius answered as his lips sought the pulse in her throat. "I hardly think that's much of a deterrent."

"How about if I hex your balls?" she asked in a mock-threatening tone.

"I'm sure you could find a better use for them than that if you put your mind to it," he said, stoic as ever.

"Oh, you'd like it if I did, no doubt," she scoffed.

"Immensely," he agreed, bringing her hand down to touch that area. "See?"

"That was not a ball," Hermione giggled.

"Close enough," he said, and then he was kissing her hungrily. Hermione kissed him right back.

"We shouldn't—" she began when his hands began to smooth her oversized T-shirt up out of the way.

"Shouldn't what?" he asked, running his tongue over her lips.

"Shouldn't—this?"

"Why not?" he asked, still finding places to kiss.

"It's—it's too soon, isn't it?"

"How should I know?" he asked. "It's not like I went about doing the math in the off chance I'd suddenly find myself single again. But Hermione, for all intents and purposes I've been single for several years."

"Well, no wonder you're such a horny old—"

"—not that old—"

"—man."

His hands slid the rest of the way up, and he pulled her shirt over her head. Of their own accord, Hermione's fingers played at the buttons of his pyjama top. He groaned in response, and pulled the thing over his head, tossing it to the floor. Hermione giggled at his impatience when next he yanked off the rest of the outfit, leaving nothing on but his silk boxers.

"Mm, these are nice," she giggled as she ran her fingers over the smooth fabric.

"Do that right here," he suggested, practically purring when her fingers smoothed the fabric and his long, hard shaft at the same time. "Mm, that's the spot."

"I should make you go home, you naughty boy," she said huskily.

"Mm, I should make sure you don't want to," he replied, and kissed a path down to one pert nipple. He was well pleased by her gasp of pleasure as he did so. "You like that?"

"Mm," she nodded, her fingers sifting through his hair, more frantically when his hands smoothed down her torso and one hand found the apex between her legs. "Mm, that's the spot."

"Perhaps your spot and my spot would like to have a chat?" he chuckled dryly as he came up to kiss her again. Their hands continued to tease as their tongues joined in the dance.

Hermione gasped when his finger slid inside her, and Lucius gasped when he felt her clench her walls expertly around it.

"It's more hungry than I thought," he chuckled.

"Then maybe we should forget the chat and go right to the feeding," said Hermione, and the tone of her voice sent Lucius right over the edge. Moving over top of her, his eager cock slid inside without further ado. Hermione gasped as he filled her completely, and her blood fired up to fever pitch. "Oh yes, I know you feel it now, my dear. You can't lie to me again."

"Yes!" she gasped. "Yes, yes, yes, I feel it!"

"You haven't felt anything yet," he told her, and proceeded to show her precisely what he meant.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Intruder

Pussy had elected to get out of the bed about the time her humans had begun coupling. She was hardly likely to get any sleep by all their jostling, and besides, she still had some food in her bowl. She padded out of the room, enjoying the wafting scent of the food, and followed her nose to it contentedly.

This was how life was meant to be for a domesticated cat, she decided. Happy humans busy about the business of making more humans, a warm and comfortable home, and food prepared with loving care. What feline could ask for more?

Her idyllic reverie was suddenly cut short as the protection spells Lucius had placed on her suddenly buzzed to life. She heard a clatter just outside the window, and pounced to life, hoping to spot the person outside before they were able to hide or get away.

"Humans, I believe we are in danger," she announced, and elicited a rather annoyed groan from Lucius, followed by Hermione's chuckle.

Lucius used magic to don his clothes as he headed for the bedroom door. "What is it, Pussy? What did you see?"

"I was too late to see anything, unfortunately," she told him. "I had thought to give chase—"

"Oh, no, we'll have none of that," Lucius said as he lifted the cat into his arms. Hermione smiled when this was the first thing she saw as she entered the living room. He continued, "I'm not about to put you into danger of being killed as well."

"Well, I never knew you cared," Pussy answered with a smirk as she rubbed her face against his chin.

Lucius feigned distaste and handed the cat to Hermione, but they all knew he'd actually been touched by the show of affection.

"Then what are we going to do?" Hermione inquired as she sat on the couch.

"If anyone is going to give chase, it should be me," he announced.

"And why is that?" Hermione demanded. "You're just as killable as the rest of us."

"Because I am a former Death Eater," he reminded her. "You don't think I spent all that time with the Dark Lord without learning a thing or two about dirty pool, do you?"

Hermione sighed. He did have a point. But as he moved to Apparate, she stood and drew him to her. "You can't go without giving me a good-bye kiss," she told him, taking it. "Just in case. And be careful."

"I will," he promised, and then he was gone.

Lucius had simply Apparated outside the window first, and used his wand to sense who may have just been there. Using the charm as a beacon, he next Apparated a second time, trying to follow where the intruder had gone. He found himself in a large courtyard in the middle of a festival.

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten about Beltane," he grumbled, annoyed by the huge crowd of milling people. There was no way he would be able to determine which of these revelers was the culprit who had just been outside Hermione's window. Defeated, he returned to her flat and sat on the couch with a heavy sigh.

"What happened?" both Hermione and Pussy wanted to know.

"This person is quite smart," he said. "They Apparated into a large crowd so I could not trace them further. I fear it is possible we're dealing with someone who was also trained by the Dark Lord. That was one of his tactics as well."

"So you think a Death Eater had something to do with this?" Hermione asked, not overly surprised.

"Either a Death Eater, or someone familiar with the teachings of the Dark Lord," he said flatly. "But whoever it is, they must either have access to the Ministry, or have control of someone who does. Else your lunch could not have been tainted."

"Pussy, would you be able to memorize the smell of that intruder?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Oh, no, my dear, you're not bringing that feline anywhere near the Ministry offices," Lucius forestalled her. "For one thing, Kingsley would never allow her access. And, for another, I brought her here to protect you, not to have yet another dead cat to deal with."

"Thanks," said Pussy sarcastically.

"Don't mention it, you furless wonder," he replied. "In any case, we need to get some sleep. I think it would be a very good idea if we all spent the rest of the night at Malfoy Manor. It would be much safer there."

"Fine, just let me get a few things for tomorrow, and we can go," agreed Hermione as she set Pussy onto her feet on the floor.

"And we'll be bringing my food, too, I hope?" asked Pussy hopefully.

"My dear girl, what do you take me for?" Lucius scoffed. "I'll have you know that Malfoy Manor has any kind of food your heart desires. I am only afraid that once you've discovered the lap of luxury you won't wish to return."

Hermione giggled.

"What's so funny?" Lucius asked.

"How do you know I won't do the same thing?" she asked sweetly.

"Hmm, now there's an idea I might like," he chuckled. "A beautiful woman in my bed each night—"

"Yes, and the human female, too," Pussy interjected, making both of them laugh.

Curled up in Lucius' big, comfortable bed, the three slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

#

"Wake up, my dear, we've overslept," Lucius said in Hermione's ear. "I have no idea what they'll think at the office if we both show up late, but there it is."

"Just tell them I sent you a Patronus asking for help with an intruder," Hermione suggested.

"Or we could always just elope and return as man and wife," he teased. "That would get the tongues wagging."

"Lucius, stop teasing me," Hermione grumbled. "We both know you wouldn't do that."

"My dear, you do not know me half as well as you think you do," he informed her, though his tone was as mild as ever.

"Got your work face on already, Mr. Malfoy?" she chuckled. "And without even a good morning kiss."

"Do not tempt me, woman," he told her. "If I were to kiss you now, we might as well enact the second plan, because I would not let you out of my bed all day."

Hermione grinned as she flicked her wand, and her clothes were suddenly neatly in place. Lucius frowned, making her chuckle.

"I'm going to hide that thing tonight," he said in her ear.

"Am I returning here, then?" Hermione inquired sweetly.

"Clearly I can't keep you safe enough in your flat," Lucius pointed out. "This place has wards aplenty. I'd like to see someone try and get to you in here."

"I think you just want a bed warmer."

"Don't be silly," said Pussy as she stretched and pounced down to the floor from the end of his bed. "He has me for that."

"I told you, you silly feline, I like my females to be the same species."

Hermione tsked at this. "Lucius, you and your racist ideals. It seems to me we could both be your bed warmers tonight."

"Miss Granger, are you suggesting I should take up with more than one Pussy?"

Hermione broke into peals of laughter when the cat surged forward and jumped onto Lucius' back. "She's suggesting nothing of the sort," the cat complained. "Now, when's breakfast?"

"Miss Granger, would you kindly get your Pussy off of me?"

"Aw, Lucius, that's not what you said last night," Hermione smirked.

"This conversation is getting out of hand," he said stoically. "We really must get to work now, my dear. Duty calls."

The pair of them Apparated independently, and each arrived at the office at their own desks. Hermione blushed and looked down when she was met with several pairs of knowing eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Warm Milk and Kibble

Pussy padded through Malfoy Manor for the greater part of a day just taking in the place. She hadn't realized one human male needed so many things. Lucius and Hermione needed to have lots of young humans to fill all these rooms. It was a good thing they'd already gotten started on the proper activity to ensure she would continue to get plenty of food for herself and any young she herself might have.

"Well, there you are, then," said a decidedly unfamiliar male voice. Pussy turned to the place she'd heard the voice and sniffed the air, then suspiciously crept around the corner to follow the sound. As she rounded the corner she spotted two bowls. One contained kibble, the other warmed milk. She detested kibble, and something about the milk smelled off. Putting her nose in the air, she turned away from the offering, knowing she would get much better once Hermione returned.

But this left her to wonder just exactly who had put the food there to begin with. He certainly smelled human, whoever he was, but as far as she knew the only human male in residence was Lucius, and had said something about going to work. Besides, the smell was nothing like his.

Pussy sent a thought to Lucius, asking, "Lucius, where are you right now? You're not home, are you?"

"I'm still at work," he answered, somewhat alarmed. "Why do you ask?"

"Someone is inside your house," she explained. "A human male. I'm going to attempt to find him now, and get a good look at him for you."

"No, don't approach him," Lucius cautioned her. "He may try to harm you."

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "Why should he do that, when he was just trying to feed me?"

"Did you eat anything?" Lucius wanted to know.

"Of course not," Pussy said irritably. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Good," he said. "Find someplace to hide, and I'll be back in a few minutes. And Pussy? Try to be

careful."

"Why Lucius, I didn't know you cared."

"About a furless wonder? Hardly," he answered, though she could tell he was smirking. "But I do believe

Hermione would be very upset if anything happened to you."

"Should I tell Hermione about our little friend?" Pussy inquired.

"No, leave that to me," Lucius said. "I don't want to alarm her without due cause."

"Very well," the cat agreed. "But how do I know where to hide, when I didn't see which way to intruder went?"

"Somewhere dark and small, I suppose," Lucius suggested.

"I hate dark and small places," she complained. "I'll just go into your study and wait for you."

"Very well, I'll be right there."

Lucius rose from his chair and walked as calmly as possible out his office door. He went right to Hermione's desk and stood beside her. The tension coming off of him could have sent crackles of energy into the air.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a raised brow. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I need your assistance on a matter of some importance, as I believe animals are a particular interest of yours, and there's a cat I've just learned may be in serious circumstances."

"A cat?" said Hermione's assistant with a wrinkled nose. "I thought you hated cats, sir."

"Not this one," Lucius replied shortly as he held a hand out to Hermione. Worry etched her features as she reached up and took it. Within mere seconds, they were standing at the entrance to Malfoy Manor.

"Hermione, I want you to take extreme care," he told her. "I believe the perpetrator of Minerva's unnatural demise may be in here somewhere, and whoever it is, he wants you dead. Keep up a Protego until we flush him out."

Hermione shook her head in disgust. "I'm pretty sure I know how to get on in a battle, Lucius."

Nodding, Lucius replied, "Yes, I agree. But I still want you to be safe."

"All right," she agreed with a shake of her head. "I will."

Fully shielded by their Protegos, Lucius and Hermione stepped inside his home. Lucius was very troubled that his fortress of solitude was not as secure as he had at first supposed. But who did he know that still had access to the Manor? And why would the villain be more interested in killing Pussy than lying in wait for Hermione? Something didn't add up.

"Who do you know that could get in here?" asked Hermione as they walked with their backs together and looked everywhere for the enemy.

"That's just it," Lucius said. "Once Voldemort was dead, I changed the wards to disallow anyone who used to come in here while my home was-occupied There's no one I can think of who still has access."

"So you don't think it's some sort of Death Eater plot?" Hermione clarified as she waved her wand at the door leading out of the foyer and into one of the parlors.

"I hardly think so," Lucius replied. "Once word got out that Voldemort himself was only a half-blood, many of the Death Eaters renounced him immediately. Besides, most of them received the Dementor's kiss."

"And everyone who received it is dead, right?" she asked.

"Not all," Lucius said. "Some are just completely mad."

"And if one of them escaped somehow, while they were completely mad, that is, what do you think they would do?"

Lucius hit himself in the head. "I hadn't thought about it. Most people who receive the kiss take years to get back to the point of feeding themselves, let alone plotting an escape."

"This room is clear," Hermione announced, and room by room the two searched the entire Manor. It was well into the middle of the night before they were done, and they never found the man they were looking for. The pair ate a dismal dinner, and cuddled up together in Lucius' big bed for the night. Neither of them fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Full Sweep

"Hermione, I need you to head to work without me," Lucius told her the next morning. "There's something I need to do first. "

"But I thought you said you didn't want to let me out of your sight," she protested as she straightened the collar of her borrowed gown. She was still feeling a bit uncomfortable about donning Narcissa's clothing when she was so recently deceased, but the only other alternative would have been to return to her flat for a clean outfit—which Lucius absolutely did not want her to do.

"What good is there in bringing you two here to be safe, if you are not safe after all?" he grumbled as he turned her about and patted her behind, gently pushing her in the direction of the fireplace.

Hermione was having none of it. Turning back around with her hands on her hips, she raised a brow and remarked, "And you believe it's somehow safer for you?"

"Of course it is," he answered with a short bark of a laugh. "I'm the master of this demesne. There are so many wards on this place that pertain to me, it would take an entire year just to remove them all. But it is very sweet of you to worry about me, when it is you they're trying to get to."

"I'll go, but not until I get a good and proper kiss," she said. "What good is it to let you protect me, if all I get out of it is a dictatorial man who thinks he's invincible?"

Chuckling, Lucius drew her to him and gave her a kiss that curled her toes. But then he turned her toward the fireplace gain. "No arguments, now. If you haven't heard from me in about an hour or so, just have Pussy find me and show you that I'm perfectly all right. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she sighed, and through her powder as she called out the chimney number within the Ministry offices that was closest to her desk.

Once she was gone, Lucius turned on his heel and headed out into the main hallway, straight over to a set of stairs that led down to the dungeons. He had not been down there since the end of the war, and his only real, lasting memory of the place involved the beautiful young woman he'd just awakened with in his bed. Warmed by the very thought of this, he moved on, determined that he would not lose the first real love of his life over some outdated mode of thinking in the hands of some as yet unknown madman.

"Could it be?" he asked himself softly as he glanced somewhere toward the back of the large room, to what appeared to be a solid wall, but which he knew was not. Moving forward with catlike grace, he was about to operate the lever that would open the door when Pussy was suddenly curling around his feet.

"There you are, Lucius," she grumbled. "You forgot all about my breakfast yet again. I had to ask the house elf. I shouldn't have to do anything of the sort, you know. Among my kind, I'm considered royalty."

"Kings put on their pants one leg at a time, as everyone else does," Lucius pointed out, trying to walk around the animal with resolute steps.

"That may well be, but queens need not lift a finger at all, not tell their servants what is needed for the most part," she scoffed. "Something as simple as a meal ought to be thought of well in advance of its time, don't you think."

"Pussy, I had other things on my mind," Lucius told her sternly. "Do you want the man who was in here yesterday to return and kill your mistress?"

"Don't you mean _your _mistress?" she inquired with a playful purr, and jumped up onto his shoulder to avoid the well-aimed but only pretend kick he was about to deliver.

"Yes, thank you very much," he smirked. "And I rather like the idea of making her even more, if she would have me."

"You humans and your bonding rituals," said Pussy with a shake of her furless tail as she licked his ear, making him flinch distastefully away. "What good does it do, this marriage business? You were married for half your life, and what good did it do?"

"Well, there is Draco, of course," Lucius pointed out. "We managed to get along at least long enough to have him."

"You should have young with Hermione," Pussy told him in all seriousness. "She is wasted, having so much to give and no one to give it to."

"You do like to put the cart before the horse, don't you?" asked Lucius dryly as he reached for the lever of the secret door again. "We haven't even made certain she'd be alive to birth them, and you're filling her belly with kittens already. If you're so keen on kittens, perhaps we should see to your own production of progeny as well."

"I don't think you could be of much help in that regard," she mentioned dryly. "It just couldn't work out between us."

"You know very well I meant to get you a tomcat, you naughty girl," he answered saucily, pausing with his hand on the lever, still not pulled. "Perhaps if I kept you occupied, I'd actually be able to accomplish the simple task I set myself in this very room."

"Well, go on then, don't let me stop you," she grumbled. "There might be a nice, fat mouse to be had in there."

"You know about the room?" Lucius asked.

"I can smell it through the cracks," she explained. "This place is nothing if not very old."

"Yes, I had meant to renovate down here after the war," he answered. "Too many bad memories. And I'm sure Hermione will not wish to come down here, in any case, after my sister-in-law tortured her here."

"The past should usually be left in the past, Lucius," she said. "Hermione seems to have left it there. You ought to do the same."

"I fear very much, Pussy, that the past is rising up to haunt us once again."

Pussy pounced down from his shoulder to the floor, surging forward to look at the gleaming mask that lay in the middle of the floor. "What is it?" she wanted to know.

"It's the mask of a Death Eater," he said. "But as it is not my mask, and as I've never allowed any Death Eater into my home once the Dark Lord was gone, there can be only one way the thing got dropped right there in the middle of the floor. Hermione was closer to the truth that she realized, and I fear she is not going to like the news when she is told."

"What do you mean?" asked Pussy worriedly.

"I mean, I recognize this mask," he said. "But I have always believed this man was killed by the Dementor's kiss years ago. I wonder how he could possibly have survived."


End file.
